I am
by Saramund
Summary: Fragile Balance Tag - What happened to 'mini-jack"?


Title: I am  
  
Spoilers: Fragile Balance, Implied Heroes,   
  
Rating: R for language  
  
Archive: S&J, Heliopolis (when it starts taking submissions again *g*), anyone else   
  
please ask.  
  
Disclaimer: Stargate SG1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) productions,   
  
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.   
  
This story was written for entertainment purposes only and absolutely no money was   
  
exchanged. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations   
  
and story are property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere else   
  
without the consent of the author.  
  
Summary: I wanted to explore the future for clone-Jack, and this is what I came up   
  
with.  
  
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~  
  
He pulled the flowing black gown off his shoulders, rolling them to relieve the stress   
  
of the last few hours. Balling up the graduation gown under his arm, he pulled off the   
  
appalling hat and restyled his hair quickly with one hand, holding both the hat and   
  
rolled up scroll in the other. He smiled and nodded at other class members as they   
  
walked past, but as always, he stayed slightly apart from them, separate. Not alone,   
  
just detached.  
  
"So, John." He heard a voice address him from behind, and he turned to look at one   
  
of his old professors, who was watching him with proud eyes.  
  
"Hey, Simon." He replied, grinning. Professor Simon Benson had not only been a   
  
professor of his, but a good drinking buddy. John had never had any difficulties   
  
getting along with the older generations. His grin turned sly as he remembered why   
  
that was so.  
  
"You finally get outta here, huh?" The older man replied, nodding his head at the   
  
graduation gown and hat. John nodded back, shuffling slightly in his dress shoes.  
  
"Yup. Got a few weeks off to see the world before the Air Force drags me back to   
  
real life." He was looking forward to the break, the long winding road stretched   
  
before his Ducati, helmet on and backpack full of all he needed – a few changes of   
  
clothes and a couple of books to keep him company on the trip.  
  
"Got the Ducati all ready to go?"  
  
"Ready and waiting, Simon. Just gotta dump these back in storage, and I'm off.   
  
Should be in the middle of nowhere by sundown." The professor shook his head in   
  
bewilderment at the eagerness in his former student's voice.  
  
"You know, John, one thing I never asked you that's been bugging me these last few   
  
years." Simon told him, gesturing for John to continue walking.  
  
"What's that?" John asked, turning with Simon to walk towards the car park.  
  
"Why on earth would you choose to study military history, ancient history and   
  
astronomy?" Simon grinned as he asked. It was the question almost all of John's   
  
professors were keen to have answered. Simon was about to be disappointed   
  
however.  
  
"Classified, Simon." John replied with an evil glint in his eye. He stuffed the gown   
  
and hat into the small compartment on the rear of the bike and picked his helmet up.   
  
"One day, John, that answer is just not going to cut it." Simon growled good   
  
naturedly. He, and several of John's closer friends knew that there was something   
  
unusual about John, knew that he had some sort of arrangement with the Air Force,   
  
but beyond that they knew nothing. Which was how John wanted and needed it to be.  
  
"See you round, yeah?" John said, putting the helmet on and doing it up. Simon   
  
nodded in reply, stepping back as John started the motor-bike and revved it slightly.   
  
He kicked it forward to knock the stand off, then backed it out of it's parking spot and   
  
put it in gear.  
  
"Bye, John. Good luck. Check in now and then, let us know how you're going."   
  
Simon said in fare-well. John nodded his head, then put his sunglasses on and roared   
  
off, the throaty sound of the bike gaining a few interested stares as he rumbled out of   
  
the car park.  
  
-o0o-  
  
He stood outside the recruiting office staring up at the flags gently waving in the   
  
breeze. His last three weeks of touring the eastern half of the country had done him a   
  
lot of good. He was relaxed after the long break from anything resembling study or   
  
civilisation. It was something he'd missing in the last six years, since he'd reinvented   
  
himself. The solitude and serenity of the forests and rivers, of the wilderness he'd   
  
come to love as a child. It had taken a lot to make him give that up, that serenity, that   
  
aimless wandering. To make him come back here, to where it all started. To where   
  
it would start again.   
  
John took a deep breath and stepped forward, towards the automatic doors that   
  
swished open mechanically as he approached. He looked around the room, noticing   
  
the young men and women who were talking with the recruiting officers, the young   
  
officers in their crisp blue or green uniforms and unexpectedly felt a surge of feeling   
  
that he belatedly recognised was one of coming home. He mentally turned away from   
  
the aimless wandering that still hankered deep in his soul, turning towards his future –   
  
towards where he belonged.  
  
"Can I help you?" A Lieutenant asked, coming up to stand near him. John sized him   
  
up quickly, with a scan of the man's posture, his body language. A fairly new   
  
Lieutenant, still out to prove himself. He sighed internally.  
  
"Yes. I'm John Stewart." He'd taken his mothers name. Forward thinking made him   
  
realise that keeping the name of O'Neill along with the name Jonathon would   
  
complicate things far beyond what was necessary. So he was now John Stewart. "I   
  
believe you're expecting me."  
  
"John Stewart?" The Lieutenant repeated as a question. He frowned, then shook his   
  
head. "No, I don't remember anyone by that name. Did you have an appointment?"   
  
John stared at him in blank shock. An appointment? For him? Since when did he   
  
need an appointment? Wasn't this all supposed to have been arranged?   
  
"Ahh, no. I don't. I didn't realise I'd need one. Sorry." John replied after a few   
  
seconds, still reeling. Maybe they got the date wrong?  
  
"So let me guess." The Lieutenant said condescendingly. "You'd like to join one of   
  
the armed forces?" John stared at him, a flat stare that had cowed so many   
  
Lieutenants, just like this one. Unfortunately it wasn't working for once. He   
  
inwardly cursed his youthful appearance and nodded silently in answer instead.  
  
"Air Force." He said after a second. "I'm interested in the Air Force." He cast a   
  
quick look at the Lieutenants green uniform before shooting his eyes over towards the   
  
blue-garbed Lieutenant sitting with another young man.  
  
"Oh." The Lieutenant said softly. "Look, John, I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Air   
  
Force isn't currently looking for recruits. They have an over-abundance of personnel   
  
at the moment, and have suspended recruitment for the next twelve months. If you   
  
really are interested, I can give you some pamphlets to look over, and you're more   
  
than welcome to come back this time next year. Or you can maybe join the Army or   
  
Navy? We're still looking for recruits." The Lieutenant smiled winningly. John   
  
shook his head.  
  
"I'm not interested in the other arms. I'm Air Force. Now let me talk to the other   
  
Lieutenant." John ordered. As suspected and as he'd dreaded, the Lieutenant barely   
  
even listened to him.  
  
"The Army has some great opportunities. Here, look at this." He reached over to a   
  
wall of pamphlets, but John grabbed his wrist, preventing him from grabbing one of   
  
the brightly colours fliers.  
  
"Lieutenant. I am not interested in joining the Army. I will speak to the other   
  
Lieutenant as soon as she is available. Thank you." John spoke firmly and softly, his   
  
voice carrying the weight and authority he'd learned over years. The Lieutenant   
  
bristled and raised his voice.  
  
"Listen here, sir. I have already explained to you that the Air Force is not recruiting   
  
at this point in time. And if you wish to pursue a career in the military, you are going   
  
to have to learn to take orders." His raised voice had garnered the attention of the   
  
others in the room, who had turned to look. John disregarded them, and stared the   
  
young Lieutenant down.  
  
"Lieutenant." He said softly. "Shut up and go away. Now." The Lieutenant   
  
blanched at the menace in his voice and took an involuntary step back. By this time,   
  
the Air Force Lieutenant had made her way over and was looking to interrupt. John   
  
turned to her and took a deep breath. "My name is John Stewart. You are expecting   
  
me." The new Lieutenant looked shocked, her eyes flashed open wide and then she   
  
nodded, gesturing John to a small cubicle.  
  
"David, can you look after Jason for me, please? I need to see to this right now." The   
  
Air Force Lieutenant told her Army compatriot. David – the Army Lieutenant -   
  
looked stunned, but nodded and headed over to the young man that the Air Force   
  
Lieutenant had been talking to previously.   
  
John walked into the cubicle and sat down. The Air Force Lieutenant sat down   
  
opposite him, and placed her hands neatly clasped on the desk in front of her.  
  
"John, my name is Lieutenant Macy Franklin. It's an honour to finally meet you."   
  
John frowned. Finally meet him? What did Lieutenant Macy Franklin know about   
  
him. She read the question from his expression and continued.  
  
"I'm on secondment from the SGC, John. We've been waiting for you to arrive for   
  
the last three weeks." She frowned at him in silent irritation. He shrugged in return.   
  
His holiday was not something he was going to feel bad about. He'd enjoyed it. And   
  
more importantly, he'd needed it. He caught a small flicker of a smile in the corner of   
  
Macy's mouth and wondered at it. "Now, as to the recruitment process you're going   
  
to have to go through. We've got your records from Minnesota State University.   
  
Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself." She cast him a look from beneath her   
  
lashes, eyes flashing with amusement.  
  
"I had nothing else to do. Wasn't legal until five months ago. So I figure studying   
  
would give me something to do on those Friday nights." A part of his mind wondered   
  
why he was explaining his results to this Lieutenant. Sure she was pretty. She was   
  
young, he guessed a few years older than he was. Her hair was a neat, tidy brown.   
  
Almost sable in colour. Her skin was pretty much flawless, marred only by a few   
  
moles that gathered around her right ear. Her eyes were a brilliant green, and John   
  
estimated she stood at about five foot eight inches tall. But as to why he felt the need   
  
to explain, he was still not sure.  
  
"Fair enough. As I was saying. You're still going to have to go through officer   
  
training. We can't skip that. But we can accelerate your post graduate skills   
  
development. Normally you would finish your knife and fork course, then head out to   
  
your special field of training for further education. But seeing as how we're picking   
  
you up and you pretty much have all the training you could need, we're going to skip   
  
that part." Macy reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a thick wad of   
  
paper, which she thumped down in front of John. "Here's some reading I want you to   
  
do in the next few days, while we get everything sorted out. Now that you're here I   
  
can get the ball rolling and get us both out of here." John shot her a look of his own,   
  
surprise and amusement warring across his face. "Oh yes." She continued on his   
  
look. "I'm busting just as much as you are to get back to the SGC. David is driving   
  
me nuts." She grinned at him, a co-conspirator. John grinned back. It was nice to be   
  
back in the loop again.  
  
"What is this, exactly?" John asked, picking up the stack of paper.  
  
"Basic advancements in our officer training, plus anything else that you may have   
  
missed out on because you're not doing the further training." Macy hesitated briefly,   
  
and John looked up at her. "It's also got a brief history on your old team-mates.   
  
Well, on O'Neill's team-mates." She hesitated again. "General O'Neill thought   
  
you'd like to know what's happened in the last six years."  
  
"I'm.. I mean, Jack's a General?" John repeated in shock.  
  
"Yes." Macy nodded and smiled softly. "Jack was promoted to General   
  
approximately three years ago. But you can read all about that later. For now, let's   
  
get this started." Macy grabbed a pen and handed it to him, pulling out some   
  
paperwork as well. "Here's where you get to sign your life to the Air Force."  
  
"Again." John added, tongue-in-cheek. Macy shot him a look, then nodded.  
  
"Again." She replied, smiling that soft smile again.  
  
-o0o-  
  
He'd graduated. Again. Once again, top of the class. He may come across as foolish   
  
and stupid, but his grades always said differently. He thought back to last time he'd   
  
sat in this bar, so many years ago. He thought of what had come after, the years, the   
  
pain, the missions. This time, hopefully, he'd go through without too many marks on   
  
his record. It was a vow that he'd made during the ceremony earlier that day, but   
  
didn't really expect to succeed in keeping.   
  
He was in a bar with the other officer-recruits – now officers in truth. They were all   
  
getting blind drunk, beer shots followed by Sambuca shots, followed by beer shots. It   
  
was a blessing of his body that he could keep up with the young men. A blessing of   
  
his body that he was now young himself.   
  
"One…. Two… three!" They all yelled in chorus, downing the latest shot. He'd   
  
forgotten what beverage they were up to, and didn't really notice the taste as the   
  
alcohol bypassed his taste buds and went straight for his throat. He grinned at his   
  
fellow-Lieutenants, thumping his hand down on the table in apparent glee. Smacking   
  
his lips together to see if they were still attached to his face, he scanned the crowded   
  
bar.  
  
  
  
"Oh my god." He slurred out loud. Three of his training buddies turned to look in the   
  
direction he was looking. One of them moaned in appreciation. The other two   
  
whistled. Or rather, tried to whistle. Spittle and beer exited their mouths rapidly as   
  
the wind rushed through lazily pursed lips. Hilarity ensued as they tried to wipe up   
  
the mess now staining their shirts and the table-top.  
  
"'Scuse me." John said, standing up and leaning heavily on the hand on the table-top.   
  
"I gotta go see a lady about an alien." He staggered away, weaving in the direction of   
  
the bar.  
  
"Isn't it a guy about a log?" Geoff asked, confused.  
  
"Nah, it's a man about a dog." Matthew replied.  
  
"For fucks sake, guys. He's taking a leak. What is it with you guys and cliché's?"   
  
Martin said, in perfect imitation of John Stewart. The rest of the table erupted into   
  
drunken laughter. Then they all drank their next shot.  
  
John reached the bar without any major incidents, and leaned up on it, standing side-  
  
on and staring at the Captain in front of him. A Captain that the last time he'd seen   
  
had been a Lieutenant, more than eighteen months ago.  
  
"Scuse me." He slurred, tugging on her sleeve. Her head turned, and he could see the   
  
put down already formed on her lips, ready to deliver. It died a rapid death as the   
  
Captain got a look at the man in front of her.  
  
"John!?" She guessed, looking him over. He nodded in reply, grinning stupidly.  
  
"Heya, Macy." He looked at her empty glass. "What can I get ya?"  
  
"I'm on my way out, John. But thanks. You just graduate?" She asked, stepping   
  
back and gathering her coat and handbag off the bar-stool in front of her.  
  
"Yup! Getting drunk with the guys before reporting for duty on Monday."  
  
"Well, I'm on Level 24, with a few others in one of the offices. You get a chance,   
  
look me up. Of course, they're probably going to keep you seriously busy for the first   
  
few days. General O'Neill can be a demanding commander."  
  
"So I hear." John replied, walking her out of the bar. He'd sobered up slightly at the   
  
thought of reporting to General O'Neill on Monday. How do you talk to yourself?   
  
He wondered in his drunken state. Lieutenant you reporting for duty, sir? He shook   
  
his head. A song popped into his head and he started humming along with the tune,   
  
singing in his head "every me, every you. Ah hah" . He shuddered, shook his head   
  
them smiled at Macy in confusion. Every now and then being General Jack O'Neill's   
  
clone got very confusing.  
  
"Don't think about it too much." Macy advised with a smile, knowing his history   
  
very well. "You'll get a headache."  
  
"That's pretty much guaranteed, Captain. Congratulations, by the way." He smiled,   
  
tapping her shoulder tabs gently. She smiled back, flushing slightly.  
  
"Thanks, John. See you next week. Enjoy yourself tonight." She told him, and   
  
before opening the door, leant in to kiss his cheek softly in farewell. He walked back   
  
to the table and sat down, completely ignoring the ribald jokes coming his way from   
  
the rest of his friends.  
  
-o0o-  
  
The Mountain was no different. The guards still paced the perimeter. There was still   
  
three security checkpoints to get through before you entered the mountain itself.   
  
There was the metal detector and guard waiting to scan any visitors to the complex,   
  
and the NCO waiting at a desk by the elevators for any visitors, ready to ring down   
  
for an escort. John walked up to the NCO and stood at ease, waiting for the Sergeant   
  
to finish his telephone conversation. Several seconds later, the Sergeant hung up and   
  
looked up at his visitor.  
  
"Holy…" The Sergeant whispered, before standing up and saluting.   
  
"Welcome to Cheyenne again, sir. I'm Sergeant Dennison. I'll just ring down for an   
  
escort." He fumbled the phone off the hook and dialled a short series of numbers.   
  
"Lieutenant Stewart is here, sir." He said down the phone, waited a few moments,   
  
then hung up. "Ahhh, someone will be up shortly to escort you down to General   
  
O'Neill's office, sir. Why don't you have a seat." Dennison gestured to the waiting   
  
area, and John gratefully took a seat. He'd gotten progressively more and more   
  
nervous as this morning approached, and it was now all he could do not to shake with   
  
nervous tension. He laid his hat on the seat beside him, leant forward and rubbed his   
  
hands through his hair, a nervous habit that had been with him longer than he could   
  
remember. Coming back here, back to the Mountain, back to the Stargate Program   
  
was something he'd wanted since he found out he wasn't the original Colonel Jack   
  
O'Neill. That he was a facsimile. A copy. A clone. It was all he'd wanted for eight   
  
years now. And now that he was here, he was a nervous wreck. He wasn't Jack   
  
O'Neill anymore. He didn't have that life. But he still remembered it. Still   
  
remembered his pseudo-family, his team. SG-1. Daniel Jackson, Teal'c and   
  
Samantha Carter. His heart twinged briefly at the memory of her. Her brilliant,   
  
beautiful personality. Vibrant and vivid in his memory. Someone he'd lost before he   
  
even had the opportunity to have..   
  
The elevator pinged, announcing it's arrival. He stood up quickly, grabbing his hat   
  
and turning to face the elevator. The doors opened slowly, revealing a large man   
  
standing in the middle of the elevator room, who was staring at him with calm brown   
  
eyes. The man nodded slowly before exiting the elevator, coming to a stop a few   
  
steps from John. Again, the man bowed, this time more formal, lower.   
  
  
  
"It is an honour to once again speak with you, JonathonStewart." The man said, his   
  
low voice soft in the waiting area.  
  
"You too, Teal'c." John replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat   
  
roughly. "You haven't changed a bit, T-man." John admired his old comrade-in-  
  
arms. The big black man was still muscular, his face still did not show any sign of   
  
aging. He was well over one hundred years old now, but still looked no more than   
  
forty.   
  
"Thank you. Will you follow me? GeneralO'Neill is waiting for your presence."   
  
John nodded and indicated Teal'c should lead the way.   
  
Teal'c led the way through the corridors of Level 28, straight up into the briefing   
  
room and beyond that into the office that had once belonged to General Hammond.   
  
George Hammond had retired several years ago to be replaced by General O'Neill.   
  
Whom John was about to meet, for the first time face to face since that day eight years   
  
ago when Jack had dropped John off at school and left him to get on with his life.   
  
Teal'c hesitated at the door, then stepped inside. John followed and his jaw dropped   
  
when he saw Dr Daniel Jackson perched on the mahogany desk.  
  
"Holy Shit. Daniel, what the hell happened to you?" John asked, horrified. The man   
  
in front of him had aged in the past eight years, which was to be expected. He still   
  
had a boyishness about him, still had the blue eyes behind those thick glasses and a   
  
smile that would knock women dead at ten paces. But somewhere in the past eight   
  
years, Dr Daniel Jackson had been wounded. That wound had robbed the man of his   
  
right leg. His trouser pant ended at the midway point between his hip and what would   
  
have been his knee, and the trouser pant itself was pinned up at his hip.  
  
"Hi, John." Daniel replied with a small smile. He'd had over four years to accustom   
  
himself to his disability. Four years and some very close friends that helped him   
  
through the rough times. It all helped. "I lost it fighting Ba'al back in 2007. It's   
  
okay though. Teneile doesn't seem to mind."  
  
"Teneile?" John echoed stupidly.  
  
"My wife. I got married two years ago, to the surgeon who operated on me." Daniel   
  
grinned, a flush rising and falling on his neck.  
  
"Er." John was at a loss. Here was half of his pseudo-family talking to him, but   
  
talking to him almost as though he were a stranger. Which he supposed he was. Not   
  
only was he NOT Jack O'Neill anymore, but he'd been away from these people for   
  
too long now for them to be comfortable with him. "Where's the.. General." He   
  
almost swallowed his tongue pronouncing Jack's rank. The thought that he could   
  
make it to General, even if it wasn't him, per se, was a thought that had remained with   
  
him during the last eighteen months of training. If HE could make it, then so could   
  
John.  
  
"Caught up in a medical briefing with Janet and Dr Medieski." Daniel explained,   
  
reaching for his crutches and standing up. "John…" He started, but then all three of   
  
them heard footfalls approaching the office. John turned to watch as the approaching   
  
person walked around the corner into the office and felt his heart crumble into tiny   
  
pieces as Samantha Carter walked into the room. General Samantha Carter, John   
  
noticed almost instantly, seeing the insignia on her uniform.  
  
She'd aged. Aged well, but almost sixteen years of fighting a war always takes it's   
  
toll, on any person. She had a small scar on her neck, up close to her left ear. Her   
  
eyes were still that bright blue that had always captivated him, but now they were   
  
weathered with the sights and horrors she'd witnessed. The deaths she'd caused and   
  
the deaths she'd escaped. Her hair was shorter, harsher than when he'd last seen it.   
  
But it suited her. Defined the hollows in her cheeks and made her eyes stand out that   
  
much more.   
  
John jerked awake and saluted her, a twisted smile skirting over his lips as she   
  
returned it. She looked at him solemnly, scanning her eyes over his body, looking for   
  
something John could not fathom. Differences between himself and O'Neill?   
  
Similarities? John could guess what she saw. A young man, in his mid-twenties, scar   
  
and wrinkle free. Sandy blond hair cut short and neat, gelled slightly to stick with the   
  
current fashions, which were blessedly tending towards the shorter styles once again.   
  
Tall, he still towered over her and even with the assistance of the academy gym, at the   
  
physical age of approximately twenty-four he was still lanky. Still slightly on the thin   
  
side. But beneath the ropy exterior he was just as strong as he'd always been.  
  
"I'm glad to see you back here, Ja-Jo-Lieutenant." Samantha finally said, her voice   
  
stuttering slightly over his name. "It's been a long time."   
  
"Yup. Eight years, four months, two days and about," John checked his watch,   
  
"eighteen hours since I was last on base. That's a bit of water under the bridge."  
  
"A cliché, John?" Daniel said from behind him. John shot him a grin, still rattled at   
  
seeing Carter, but recovering fast. Eight years was a long time, and he'd had a chance   
  
to resign himself to his fate.  
  
"Right, well, if you'll give Lieutenant Stewart and I some time, please, gentlemen?"   
  
Samantha asked pointedly. Daniel and Teal'c nodded, both at Samantha and John,   
  
then left the room and closed the door after them. Much to John's surprise, Carter   
  
then sat down behind the red-mahogany desk, picking up a folder from on top and   
  
opening the manila front page.  
  
"Ahh. Won't General O'Neill be pissed to see you sitting at his desk?" John asked,   
  
shifting uncomfortably. Carter shot John a surprised look, then a flash of guilt and   
  
pleasure washed across her face in quick succession.  
  
"Lieu-John. This is my desk. This is my office. I'm the CO of the SGC now." Carter   
  
said gently.  
  
"But all the forms said General O'Neill…" John drifted slowly to silence, finally   
  
understanding what she was telling him. SHE was General O'Neill. "Oh." He sat   
  
back, trying to analyse just how he felt about this news. He rubbed a hand over his   
  
mouth, fingers rasping against the new growth of whiskers that was just starting to   
  
come through. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sympathetic eyes of Samantha   
  
O'Neill, nee Carter.  
  
"We've been married for just on three years now. He retired in early 2006, just after   
  
he made general." Sam explained softly, apologetically. John opened his eyes to   
  
stare at his…. Wife? No, not his wife. JACK's wife. The woman sitting in front of   
  
him was now nothing more than his CO. He did some mental arithmetic over the   
  
dates that had been mentioned.  
  
"It took you guys two years after he retired for you to get married?" He said   
  
disbelievingly. Sam flushed with embarrassment, then chuckled, relaxing slightly.   
  
She'd understood by his comment that he would survive this shock.  
  
"Well, it took him six months to ask me on a date, so I'd say we did pretty well after   
  
that."  
  
"Six damn months!?" John was aghast. "What the hell took him so long?"  
  
"He says it was a mourning period. Something about letting go of the old, yadda   
  
yadda." She waved her hand in the air, a gesture that John recognised from his own   
  
body language. A gesture she'd obviously picked up from her husband. He thought   
  
for a few moments.  
  
"He was nervous." John said, feeling suddenly more comfortable.  
  
"What?" Sam blinked at him, not sure what his meaning was.  
  
"He was dead set scared stiff of what you'd say when he finally plucked up the   
  
courage to ask you." John expanded on his explanation.  
  
"Why, for crying out loud?" Sam demanded, then smiled at John's sudden burst of   
  
laughter. They paused for a second to recover themselves, then Sam continued.   
  
"How can you know?"  
  
"Cause I would have been, too, Sam. Ahh, Sir. Ma'am. General. Oh crap." He   
  
threw his hands up in the air. "What the hell do I call you now? This is so damned   
  
confusing." He grumbled, scowling. Sam grinned back at him.  
  
"Considering the circumstances, John, why don't you call me Sam? Or Carter, if you   
  
feel more comfortable. Hell, Jack still calls me Carter half the time." She paused for   
  
a second, fingering a pen on her desk. "Are you going to be okay with this John?"   
  
She asked finally, looking at him from beneath her eye-lashes. John snorted softly.  
  
"Bit late to ask that now, isn't it?" He pointed out sarcastically.  
  
"True, we.. I should have spoken to you prior to this, but I just couldn't…. We've   
  
discovered since Jack retired that his presence made a difference to the SGC. He had   
  
a way of keeping up morale, of never giving in."  
  
"Sam… I'm not Jack. Not any more." John pointed out gently, finally understanding   
  
the truth of the statement. He wasn't Jack, wasn't even a clone of Jack – not   
  
anymore. Not since that day eight years ago when his life had diverged from   
  
Jonathon O'Neill's. From that day forth, he was someone different.   
  
"I know, John." Sam replied gently. "You're not him. Trust me, I know that. For   
  
one, you're a gentler person."  
  
"Gentler?!" John was indignant.  
  
"Well, softer? Calmer? Whatever it is, you're easier to talk to than Jack was in that   
  
last year before he retired. He'd become a hard unbending arrogant jackass. Pun   
  
intended. You've had eight years break from this insane world we call the SGC. And   
  
it's helped you. Just like retirement helped Jack." Sam stood up and came around her   
  
desk to lean back on it, closer to John and more relaxed. "What I want off you for the   
  
next six months is for you to learn what you've missed in the last eight years. We've   
  
managed to defeat quite a few of our old foe's, but as always along the way we've   
  
gathered a whole lot more."  
  
"What about going off-world?" John asked, listening to her explanation of his next   
  
few months with interest.  
  
"Not right now." Sam held her hand up to stop his automatic protest. "Hang on a   
  
second, John. Not right now, but that's because you're not up to date on our   
  
advances. Once we've got that sorted out, we'll be sending you out for a few months   
  
with SG-13, as their junior team member to get you used to the field again."  
  
She smiled at his silent protest, knowing his expressions very well after living with   
  
his other half for three and a half years. "John, you've been out of operation for eight   
  
years now. And you're much younger than when you last remember going out in the   
  
field. You need to get your sea-legs, for wont of a better term. Once that's done the   
  
chances are very high that you'll be put on either SG-2 or SG-4 as both have positions   
  
that are soon to become available."  
  
"What about SG-1?" John asked with interest, thinking through what she was telling   
  
him.  
  
"SG-1 doesn't exist anymore. Not as it did. When Jack retired, we put a replacement   
  
on the team and I was promoted to Colonel with a jump right over Lieutenant-Colonel   
  
for various reasons that I'm not going in to right now. Then Daniel… lost his leg.   
  
And all of a sudden, SG-1 wasn't SG-1 anymore. I," She hesitated, looking directly   
  
at John to gauge his mood. "About five weeks after Daniel lost his leg, I discovered I   
  
was pregnant. Within a year of Jack retiring, SG-1 consisted of Teal'c. And no one   
  
wanted to join the team. Something about revering the original members or some   
  
such. Anyway, after a few weeks it was decided that SG-1 would not be replaced,   
  
and that their duties would be divided up between several other teams. So now, SG-2   
  
and SG-5 go out on new planet recon's. SG-4 and SG-7 go out on alliance   
  
negotiation talks. SG-3 goes out when we need brute force and not too many smarts –   
  
they are marines, after all." Sam smiled evilly. John wasn't listening. He'd stopped   
  
listening after the word 'pregnant'.  
  
"John?" Sam called his name, waving a hand in front of his eyes to get his attention.  
  
"Pregnant?" John repeated the only thing worth paying attention to. Sam nodded,   
  
looking sombre and hesitant.  
  
"Jack and I have two lovely daughters, John. Twins, born just over eighteen months   
  
from when Jack retired. It was one of the reasons we had to wait two years to get   
  
married. I was pregnant."  
  
"You have two daughters?" Curiously, he wasn't hurt. His heart was still beating. In   
  
fact, it was beating rapidly, and he could feel this small glow warming the pit of his   
  
belly. Sam and Jack had children. Two daughters.  
  
"Yes. Julie and Jennifer. Two adorable four year olds who are driving their father   
  
mad." Sam was watching John closely, waiting for the eruption, the anger, the   
  
anguish. Something. But there was nothing bar a small enigmatic smile that graces   
  
his lips. Lips that were full and flushed with youth.  
  
"Wow. Jack has got to be in seventh heaven right now." John said finally. Sam   
  
sighed when he spoke.  
  
"He is. So am I." Sam cleared her throat and got back on point. "Now, back to my   
  
original question – are you sure you're going to be okay with coming back here?   
  
Admittedly a good sixty percent of the staff have changed since you last remember it,   
  
but there's still a good amount of people who will remember you. Never mind the   
  
unbelievable resemblance to Jack." She smiled at her own words. The resemblance   
  
was unbelievable because it was true. Very few people who worked outside of the   
  
Stargate program would ever believe that such a thing could happen – that a clone   
  
could be made to act as a replacement, without anyone the wiser for the swap.  
  
"I'm okay. I've been itching to get out and kick more butt, to be honest." John   
  
admitted. Sam nodded her head in response, then stood up.  
  
"In that case, I want you to go down to 21, get checked out by the doc's and then head   
  
over to Daniel's office for a brief history lesson." She cast him a look as she walked   
  
back behind her desk. "I understand that you took ancient history and astronomy   
  
while you were at University?"  
  
"Yup." John replied, bouncing on his toes with his hands in his pockets.  
  
"And your marks were fairly impressive." Sarcasm and understatement dripped from   
  
her voice.  
  
"All good." John grinned. "Now you can take that back to Jack and argue his 'dumb'   
  
mode." Sam grinned evilly back, a glint in her eye. Somehow, John had a feeling   
  
Sam had already done just that.  
  
"Good. Daniel will give you a brief verbal history, but he's prepared a few reports for   
  
your perusal. And Teal'c's prepared some weapons training with you for tomorrow.   
  
Welcome back, John." Sam dismissed him. John saluted smartly, destroying the   
  
show by grinning sardonically at his CO. Sam returned the salute with her own wry   
  
smile before sitting down and getting back to the job of running her base.  
  
-o0o-  
  
John almost bounced into the infirmary, eager to see Janet Fraser and the rest of her   
  
team, curious as to who was still there, who had left and what had changed. The first   
  
thing he noticed was the lack of equipment in the room. The second thing was Janet.  
  
"Holy shit, doc!" He breathed, taking in the changes in the doctor. Janet spun around   
  
and opened her mouth to spew out words of reprimand, when she suddenly stopped.  
  
"Oh my god!" She squealed before running over and hugging the breath out of him.   
  
"John, look at you!" She stepped back, running her hands through his short sandy   
  
hair. "Wow, have you grown up!"   
  
"Thanks, doc." John replied sarcastically. He and Janet had always been close, good   
  
friends that had been forced repeatedly into each others company. Generally due to   
  
the injuries one of his old team-members had suffered from. Then, as himself, as   
  
John, he'd become close to Janet as they tried to discover just how to reverse the   
  
damage that had been done to his body. He'd stayed in touch with the doctor for a   
  
year or so after leaving the SGC, until he'd moved away from Colorado, back to   
  
Minnesota.   
  
Since then, the Doc had changed. Her hair was almost shorn off, a style even more   
  
severe than Sam's was. And her hair was now a pure pristine white.  
  
"What the hell happened, doc?" John asked, brushing his own hand through the   
  
woman's hair.  
  
"I pretty much died a few years ago. They got me back here and implanted a tok'ra in   
  
me, but the trauma of the injury did this. Within two months, my hair was completely   
  
white. But Tu'lian says it looks good, so I've gotten used to it."  
  
"Tu'lian?" John repeated, fearing the worst. It was confirmed when Janet closed her   
  
eyes and then opened them again slowly, and suddenly John was no longer looking at   
  
Janet. He was looking at the snake infecting her.  
  
"It is an honour to meet you, John." The Tok'ra said in that echoy voice that they all   
  
used. "Janet has been looking forward to your presence here for some time now. I   
  
look forward to working with you in the future."  
  
"Yeah." It was pretty much all that John could think to say at that point in time. By   
  
the time he'd gotten himself sorted out, Janet was back in control and walking him   
  
towards an infirmary bed all the while instructing him to take his clothes off.  
  
"Doc!" John protested half-heartedly, then shrugged and started undoing his shirt   
  
buttons.  
  
-o0o-  
  
Three weeks later, John had settled in to his old/new life once more. He'd found a   
  
nice neat apartment on the outskirts of Colorado Springs, overlooking a green park   
  
and small lake. He'd come to terms with Sam and Jack's marriage – a feat that took   
  
him little to no time at all, surprisingly. Time heals all wounds apparently. He'd   
  
tentatively established a new friendship with both Teal'c and Daniel. A changed,   
  
more subdued friendship, but friendship none-the-less. And while Sam was now his   
  
CO, he still found himself popping in to her office to chat with her about her children,   
  
the latest developments from her science team, and the latest results from teams off-  
  
world.  
  
The biggest thing he'd found during the last few weeks, the most reassuring and   
  
comforting reaction was from the junior staff around him. Everyone by now knew   
  
who he was, his history. And being the SGC, they had accepted it without so much as   
  
a blink. Carter (John still called her Carter in his head. Would always think of her as   
  
Carter or Sam. It was how he remembered her. How he treasured her. And he was   
  
happy with the way things were now) had rostered him in to SG-13 and they were due   
  
to go on their first mission together in just under two weeks. They were currently   
  
training together under Teal'c's instructions, coming together as a cohesive team.   
  
The leader of the team, Major Simpson (Bart to his friends), had not been with the   
  
SGC when Jack O'Neill had worked there, which made both his and John's transition   
  
much easier.   
  
John found that the hardest part of his new life was remembering that according to all   
  
information, he was a Lieutenant. And a first year Lieutenant at that. He continually   
  
had to bite his tongue when being given orders. It was the hardest part of his job, the   
  
lack of command-respect. But it would get better, he was sure.  
  
John checked his watch and started in surprise. His meandering thoughts had just lost   
  
him half an hour of time. He jumped up from the kitchen table and grabbed his keys,   
  
slamming the door to the unit shut behind him. He trotted down the stairs and   
  
unlocked his car by beeper, the big black truck flashing it's lights back at him. He   
  
grinned as he hopped into the drivers side. The air force had given him a stipend over   
  
the last eight years, something with which he could survive, he could maintain some   
  
semblance on normalcy. It wasn't a lot – in fact, it wasn't much at all. But John had   
  
managed to make the money work for him. And now, just a month out of the   
  
academy, he'd had enough money for a significant down-payment on the F-250. It   
  
was a touch of home that he was glad to have back.  
  
John pulled up outside the large brick house, noting the two cars in the driveway.   
  
One was a large silver convertible, with it's black vinyl top up and it's nose nuzzling   
  
the garage door. The other was very familiar to John. It was a large green F-250. It   
  
was Jack's truck. An older model of the very truck he was driving now. John   
  
chuckled to himself as the irony. An older model with an older truck. The newer   
  
model had the newer truck. He pulled up behind the convertible, noticing now that he   
  
was closer, that it was a 1998 model Trans Am.  
  
"Nice." He said under his breath as he got out of his truck, locking it behind him. He   
  
was distracted briefly, and started to peer in through the windows at the interior, his   
  
mind rattling over the performance capabilities of the vehicle.  
  
"John!" He heard someone yell, and it took a second for him to realise that the voice   
  
belonged to his CO. He pushed his brain away from drooling over the car and turned   
  
to approach Sam, a smile on his face. The smile froze and then shattered when two   
  
blond whirlwinds ran out from behind Sam's legs and out onto the front lawn.  
  
"Oh God." He breathed, watching the two little girls run around and giggle as they   
  
played. He blinked, hard, then turned back to Sam. "Sam, they're gorgeous."  
  
"Thank you, John." Came the reply, and it wasn't from Sam. Jack now stood behind   
  
her, on arm around her waist. He was studying his clone, looking at the younger   
  
version of himself with a sense of unreality. John studied his older self in equal   
  
fascination.  
  
"Man, you age well." John finally broke the tension. They all laughed, slightly   
  
unhinged, but it helped. The slightly louder voice he used caught the attention of the   
  
two children, who looked over in confusion at hearing their father's voice coming   
  
from the stranger standing talking to their parents. They looked at each other and then   
  
skipped over to stare solemnly at the stranger for a few minutes.  
  
"You look like Daddy." One of the girls said. John smiled down at her, his heart   
  
breaking and healing simultaneously "Except without the silver hair and scars." He   
  
laughed at that, wanted to hug the child.  
  
"Jenn, Jules, this is…." Jack started to say, but was unsure how to finish the   
  
statement. John looked at him, in sympathy and understanding. But he was okay.   
  
These children weren't his. They were Jack and Sam's. He was his own man now   
  
(and he heard his fathers voice as he thought that – his father, who had died so many   
  
years ago). It was time to move on.  
  
"I'm your Uncle John." He said with a smile, bending down to shake each girls hand.   
  
"I'm very pleased to meet you."  
  
-o0o-  
  
"Captain Franklin, R&D Department"  
  
"Macy, it's John."  
  
"John! How are you! How was the barbeque on the weekend? You okay? Did   
  
everything go well? How are Jules and Jenn?"  
  
"Macy! Man, is this twenty question time, or what?"  
  
"Yes. Now answer them!"  
  
"How about I answer them over dinner?"  
  
"……Dinner? As in...."  
  
"As in a date. You, me, food, conversation. The usual."  
  
"John, what about the command structure…."  
  
"Not a problem. You're in R&D. I'm in exploration. The two don't meet until we   
  
hit Sam. Now, would you like to have dinner with me?"  
  
"……..I'd love to."  
  
-fin- 


End file.
